Ink

Last night I watched a film by the name of "Ink." EJD and I went out on a limb last evening and steered away from the Documentary project that she has been working on for the past 5 months or so. I saw scary light bulb eyes and read the back "The Next IT movie" was written in bold and followed by other various citations of "Donnie Darko probably other "indie" fantasy title...blah blah blah, I quite frankly don't remember. Either way we decided to grab it, for some reason holding it made me feel like I was about to watch MirrorMask or something of fantastical dreamworlds where good and evil vie for souls or control of humanity and that nature. Well it was just that. I thought it was a solid film based on the plot of Two groups of folks come to us while we sleep. One group dressed sharply from Abercrombie or AE gives us nice dreams filled with puppies, chocolate, our dead loved ones and being rockstars. While DEVO comes and gives us all of those I'm drowning, spitting out teeth, plastic bag over the head, sweaty nightmares.Everyone knows martial arts too! Ah but there is a third party; a loan individual shows up looking like a human Skeksi and kidnaps our psuedo-main character young girl in the dream realm placing her in a coma. She is needed for a sacrifice to allow his transition into DEVO and shed this awful dark crystal guise! So mad mad dash for AE models to bring her estranged dad to coma girls bedside to help wake her up.

I'm making fun of this and I don't know why. I really liked this film. The visuals were solid for an "indie film" and the plot left a lot of room for your own imagination to explore this dream world/war thing going on along with various other ideas and what roles people played in the mythos of the movie. Thick commentary on "what is important" or maybe exploring some sin action by giving examples of greed, vanity and pride. It through redemption in there of course, and how important it can be to trust in yourself and not loose sight of moral high grounds. Love. .

I think I like the fact of being treated like I am an idiot. Its almost like being a sleeper agent that gets woken up at particular times to do the horrible shit that no one would ever expect. I like that. I like knowing that people are very predictable and ultimately weak. I have given into my weaknesses far too long and because of that people have been used too a sort of comfort of me failing or letting things play out in their favor. Often I am said that I am general and cryptic. I also enjoy this, I like to give the person a chance at thinking about what they are doing wrong and why they are doing it. I also see it as a way for them to have that "grace period" before I actually act.

I have no idea what I am writing about but writing is what I will do right now. I find that it is bringing me great joy. I have no idea why really, maybe it cathartic or maybe I can get some of those crazy ideas out of my head. Either way its nice.

So...I am right, and it pains me to know that I will be fought until the end times comes. I will be argued with and debated until actual events transpire for the truth to be seen. When that happens I am almost positive I will end in a shameful position, blood drenched and shivering in the winter night. I can feel the energy in my chest begging to be free. Holding my heart hostage and forcing my blood to pump at a uncontrollable levels like a factory that missed its deadline. I will force myself to smile and put on that happy face, but we all know its a lie. We all know that I am always watching and suspecting. We all know that I pay attention to the exits and the entrances the motions and speech. We all know that I am forever watching.

Thank you Mr Lucas for allowing others to ruin your ruination Part 1

I tried to give Clone Wars a shot. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a Mandalore. Basically, its as flat as the new movies. Clunky plot direction and non believable situations and poor dialog. I dont understand how a group called Death Watch plans to take over Mandalore when a group of 8 can't beat Obi Wan. Now the series makes Obi Wan semi-more badass than the movies do but come on the first three movies don't lead to Sir Alec at all now do they? Dutchess throws rock at Death Watch Mando, instead of shooting Obi in the face he turns to blast her, gets sweeped...dumb. Dutchess sets off alarm, instead of one Mando guard going to "check it out" both leave their post at elaborate jedi death machine so they can both check it out while Dutchess frees Obi from ore smashing device... Give me back my fucking Ewoks right the fuck now.

Mey

The absence of any action to me is far better than action. Through out my life I made it a point to avoid, to deny and to want to d anything constructive or productive with my time. Wasted away with long hours of video game play and jobs that end in no where but loneliness and alcoholism. I stood in bathrooms, basements, apartments staring at my surroundings and hating every inch of the walls, hating every inch of myself. I leave to be swept up in the hatred of my fellow man and woman. I hate with all of my soul and being. The emptiness they promote and project on this world. So I come back in, feeling defeated and alone, I sit in front of the computer or mirror or empty room staring at a hazy reflection and blotting out most of the outside world. I fear everything that has to do with me doing anything else but sitting and waiting for death. I am afraid to take risks, to go to school, to date, to love, to hate, to do anything but sit and click buttons for hours on end. I am terrified of me doing anything. I have no idea what to do with myself. My reality sound negative but it is truth, I do not hide from it or push it away. I live with it. I live with guilt and disgust. I live with inaction. I live with no motivation and I live with myself.

There on the horizon. See it?

I am agitated today. I wish to sell my car and travel to see the love. I have been waiting for this moment for about seven years. The financial freedom I trapped myself into so many years ago. Debt has always been this huge weight on me, it has consumed most of my life and has kept me from what I feel is living. Since I have a hard time creating things or rather keep myself from creating things, I have always had a longing for travel. To me...travel is easy, see a new place, walk a new street, become a stranger. I like that idea, a stranger without feeling alienated from my family and friends. A stranger that I choose to be, a nameless faceless being walking the emptiness with the other numbers. I have been agitated mostly since I have came home. I like Maryland a lot and I like the three to five people I hang out with...My family on the other hand makes me the most sad at times. They are people with wants and desires I can't get behind, mostly because it is the pursuit of excess, I am in the pursuit of nothingness, emptiness, freedom. To have nothing is to be free. Although I do love the woman I chose to be with and I suppose in some way that can be seen as a possession. But I would hope that she would journey with me. See the sites, taste the dew in lush meadows, kiss clouds, smell far off oceans and feel the sun underneath some new sky. Its what I want and Im working for it. I dont care what they say or think, but I want it now, Ive wanted it then and I want it now. Im going for it. Im going for it.

Eye

What people fail to realize is that we are all apart of the same whole. We are a superorganism. We forget that our actions forever effect the way we are perceived by our peers. We forget how our actions, words and desires alter courses of life. We are responsible for each other. We are responsible for our actions. This life is give and take.

Mecca

I have nothing to say and no reason to type. I'm starved for inspiration and I keep looking for that big meal up ahead. Maybe I order in or rummage the old cupboard. I feel like there will be this day of enlightenment where I will have enough of being this lurching machine scratching at every root and pulling up every rock to discover whats underneath. I put myself in my home plot but secretly I want to return to the arms of the rust monster. I like the way it peels my layers away exposing me, misfired wires and open gears. It gnaws on my joints and pulls at my wires.

It seems that I wish myself to not be comfortable ever. The comforts of friends and family. The comforts of home. I don't want it. I suppose I want to start my own comfort zone. One where I make the rules, I make the decisions or have a say in them. I am making steps in freeing myself of the burdens I have placed some years ago. I hope in the matter of months I can at least deal with the physical manifestations of my insecurities. My mind on the other hand is a different story all together. This I feel will take some amount of deprogramming. I must be willful I must be strong.